Dark Side Of Me
by XxCagedBird
Summary: CASEY JONES GENDER BENT. A small drabble. Casey is out doing her patrol but then she comes face to face with a boy and a gun.
1. Author Note

I wrote this because I've been reading up on Casey Jones, mostly on the Mirage series. He is pretty much unstable and extremely violent, much more than Raph. In fact, in "Shades of Gray", he accidentally kills a teenager trying to rob him. So, I decided to write when he kills the kid trying to rob him. Of course, I'm writing it in my gender bent character. Hope you like it!


	2. Ghosts Of Guilt

_I gave my everything  
For all the wrong things  
In this cold reality I made  
This selfish war machine_

New York City. Usually the place for the rich and dreamers trying to reach their dreams. The city to be, but now a days most people are heading the other way. Why? Well, it's because the city has been taken over with so called thugs called _The Purple Dragons_ who steal from the weak and helpless. What's worse is people see these thugs and aim to become like them. That is something that one girl cannot let happen.

In the dark of the night, midnight to be correct because of the city clock chiming twelve times, is the sound of footsteps. The footsteps are slow but another unusual sound is something being dragged, something heavy.

Finally, the sounds come to a halt and then the figure's shadow is outlined due to a small light from a nearby apartment. The figure has golf bag resting on their back filled with many weapons that range from golf clubs, hockey sticks, mallets, and baseball bats. Also, the figure is wearing a hoodie with the hood up along with baggy black pants that hang low on his/her hips. The item that was being dragged was a body, a man to be correct. The man on the ground has been beaten to a bloody state but is still alive, but barley. There is blood running down his face and bruises appearing on his face. The blood around his mouth slowly falls down his chin and drops to the ground below.

A chuckle escapes from the hooded figure as it gazed down at the broken man. The figure then places its hand into the golf bag and pulls out two spray paints. One is the color of white while the other is black. The caps fall to the ground and the figure begins to paint on the wall, the figure slowly outlines the message and then draws a small picture as well above the words. Then, the figure stops spray painting the wall and took a step back to admire their artwork.

The half beaten figure below begins to stir causing the figure to look down. Then, the figure walks into a small circle of light and its face is revealed. However, the shadow of a person's face is covered in a mask. A hockey mask to be correct. The figure's whole face is covered but bright blue hues can be seen through the eye slits. The beaten man breathes in deeply as the figure kneels down in front of them.

"Ya ready to talk now?" The masked figure asked, due to the mask covering his/her face it is unclear what gender the figure is. Also, their voice is muffled as well. The man's breathing begins to return to a normal rate and he spits right in the figure's masked face. The figure doesn't utter nor does it shift.

"Fuck you," the man said to the figure, trying to gather the energy to run away from the figure.

The masked figure shakes its head and reached behind their back, pulling a baseball bat from the golf bag. "Bad choice," the voice is a deep harsh voice.

Then, before the man could blink the bat bashes against his face, causing his head to crash against the brick wall. The man whizzes from the attack and before he can react, the bat comes in contact with his side. A scream escapes the man because the sound of breaking bones echo through the darkness. The figure does not even flinch from the sound and swings the bat against his face once again. The man falls onto his side, blood dripping from his mouth. It seems that the man is in no state for talking, which is fine with the figure. It got its message across.

Then, the sound of a gun being loaded is heard from behind the figure, causing the masked figure to slowly turn its head behind. There is a boy around the age of fifteen pointing a pistol right at the masked figure.

This is not good.

The masked figure places its hands up, dropping the baseball bat to the ground. The young boy's hands are shaking as he holds the pistol in his hands.

"Kid," the masked figure spoke to the boy in a gentle voice, "drop the gun, okay?"

The boy keeps the pistol pointed at the masked figure, "Y-You….you….killed my partner!"

"Well, actually, he isn't dead, just hurt-"  
"SHUT UP!" The boy shouted and took a step to the masked figure.

The masked figure nodded. The boy keeps his hands on the pistol, his index finger resting on the trigger. "Take off your mask," the boy said in a horse voice.  
"Why?"  
"JUST DO IT!" The boy shouted.

The masked figure only nodded once more and lowered its hands to its face. Then, the mask falls from its face and into a small puddle on the ground. The masked figure is a girl. A girl around the same age as the boy, if not the same age. She has bright blue/green eyes with long lashes shading them. Her lips are painted a soft red as well. Her hair is hidden due to the hood of her hoodie but a small strand of jet black is seen from the side of her face.

"You're kidding me, right?" the boy said simply, lowering his gun only a little. "You're telling me that you did this!? You're the one runnin' around beating people up till they cry for forgiveness. YOU'RE A GIRL!"

The girl only nodded with a small smirk on her face, "Big shock ain't it? Now, you know who I am…so just let me go-"  
"Give me your shit," the boy said

His comment caused the girl to shake her head, "No way. Now you listen to me-"  
"Fuck you. YOU listen to me because I have a gun, I should have killed you when I saw you! Now hand over your shit and I won't blow out your brains."

The girl should be threatened but it seems that she is just calculating a plan in her head.  
"Ya don't have the guts to kill me," she said slowly and simply. Her remark caused the boy's hues to widen and that is when she made her move. She moved quickly and kicked the boy's hand with her foot, causing the boy to straggle back. Then, she grabbed his hand that the gun is within and struggles to get it out of his hand.

"GIVE IT TO ME!" She shouted and the boy struggles to get his grip on the gun since her hands are there as well. Then, in the heat of the confusion, the sound of a gunshot is heard which caused a loud ringing in the girl's ear. Blood is then slatted on her face causing her mouth to open in shock. Fear rings through her body, thinking it is her blood. However, she feels no pain and then her to horror her turquoise eyes widen.

It isn't her blood.  
The blood belongs to the boy.

The girl slowly looked down to the boy and a gasp escaped her painted lips. The gun is pointed right at the boy's stomach, with his finger on the trigger, however her hand is wrapped around his wrist. The boy must have thought he was going to shot her; instead he shot himself because they were fighting for control over the gun. There is a large wound in the boy and bright crimson blood is flowing out of the wound, dripping to the ground below.

"N-No," the girl whispered as she slowly lowers her hands, and the gun slowly drops from the boy's hands dropping to the cement below. The boy falls onto the girl's chest, causing a small whimper of disgust from the young girl. His blood begins to trickle onto her black hoodie. The girl then placed her hands onto the boy's shoulders and lowered him to the ground below. Now, she has a clear view of the boy. His eyes are lifeless and his mouth is opened, as if he is still in shock.

He is dead.

_Dead_. The word echos through the girl's mind. No, she didn't mean to kill him. It's his fault! He should have let her go! He should have given her the gun. He shot himself! IT ISN'T HER FAULT.  
Right?

The girl begins to panic psychologically, and then she acts on animal like instincts. She gripped to the boy's shirt and dragged him over to the thug she beat up just moments ago, and then she picked up the gun, but covered her hands with the sleeve of her hoodie. Then, placed it in the lap of the thug she beat up.

She is going to pin the death of the boy on the thug. It's the only thing she can think of in this horrible situation.

Then, she looked down at her hoodie and gasped at all the blood stained into it. The golf bag is dropped to the ground below. She quickly pulled off her hoodie and threw it to the ground, clearly sickened. She is only wearing a black tank top underneath with a switchblade visibly because she keeps one stuffed within her bra. The girl then kneeled down to her golf bag and searched in a alarmed like manner until she finds a lighter. After a few clicks to the lighter, a small flame appears and she swiftly hurled the lighter onto her bloody hoodie. Flames engulf the hoodie, and the girl's breathing slowly returns to a normal rate.

She looked over to the two people and her heart dropped right into her stomach, no, much deeper. These guys were nothing but thugs, hurting other people and even killing them. So, why does she feel bad that a kid killed himself? Why is there guilt that it is her fault? It's not like she took his gun and shot him. So, why is there guilt? If anything, they had it coming. Right?

The flames from her hoodie cause a shadow on the girl's face as she stared at the males. Then, her head lowered to glaze at her mask resting within the puddle. She looked away but then looked back, as if it is beckoning her back to it. Gradually, she leaned down and lightly picked up the mask, keeping it within her petite hands. The girl walked over to her golf bag filled with weapons and strapped it back onto her body.

She walked over to the two bodies and placed her hockey mask onto the ground beside them. As if it is a symbol of whom she is now. The two bodies are rested underneath the sign she painted on the wall just a few minutes ago. Yet, it feels like days ago. She should be feared now because she has beaten one thug up to a bloody state and _killed _another.

Now, all criminals will fear her.

_There is no weight that can bury me  
Beneath the ghosts of all my guilt  
Here in the dark side of me_


End file.
